


Closure

by cazmalfoy



Series: Assassin Ianto One-Shots [10]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 19:36:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6579631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cazmalfoy/pseuds/cazmalfoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwyn Ryman - Eldest grandson of Ianto Jones and Jack Harkness - had been travelling with the Doctor for almost a year.</p>
<p>One year away from his family was starting to take it's toll on the young Time Lord, so he decided it was time to head back to Cardiff.</p>
<p>He just had one stop he wanted to make along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closure

**Author's Note:**

> This is set after Prologue to the Past, and mentions past character death and a not-quite-there mention of past MPREG.

Don’t cross your own timeline, and  _ never  _ mess with fixed points in time.

They were the first two rules Gwyn Ryman had learnt about time travel. When he had pointed out that his teacher, his great-grandfather, had a habit of breaking both of those rules, the Doctor had immediately gotten flustered and changed the subject.

As far as his family were concerned, Gwyn had been travelling with the Doctor for only a matter of weeks. But, the TARDIS told him that he had actually been away from home for almost a year.

One year. 365 days without seeing his big sister or father, or even his grandparents. But, more heart wrenching was not seeing his newborn uncles Landon or Nathan for a year. Logically, Gwyn knew that it hadn’t been that long for them, but Gwyn couldn’t help feeling like he had abandoned his family when they needed him the most. Considering the traumatic births they had both had - Landon especially - he had been hesitant to even leave them, but Gwyn’s family had convinced him it was a good idea and they would be fine.

Earlier, the Doctor, sensing that his great-grandson was growing restless, had suggested that they head back to Cardiff. The whole point of their trip had been for Gwyn to learn more about what it meant to be a Time Lord, and possibly come to terms with the idea that he wasn’t a warrior like the rest of his family.

Something he was finally comfortable with.

Gwyn had readily agreed, but with only one condition. He wanted to stop off somewhere on the way home.

When the Doctor had found out where - or rather, _when_ - Gwyn wanted to go, he had been adamant that it wasn’t going to happen. Timelines were very important and even the smallest change could have colossal effects on history.

But Gwyn had been persistent, and the Doctor had had very little choice but to cave to his request - he wouldn’t say it was a demand.

So, they had changed course, heading for a different time completely.

“Maybe I should come with you,” the Doctor fretted, wringing his hands as he paced the length of the TARDIS.

Gwyn rolled his eyes, shrugging on a jacket he had found in the wardrobe. The TARDIS had assured him it was suitable attire for the time period, but he wasn’t so sure. He felt ridiculous. “I told you, I’m going to fine. I’ll be about an hour - if that. You might as well stay here, and get her ready to go back home,” he added, running a hand gently over the centre console. He smirked and looked up at the Doctor. “Besides, if you’re so worried about the timeline, you can keep a better eye on it from here.”

The Doctor shook his head, an affectionate smile on his face as he turned back to the TARDIS’s controls. “Just be careful,” he pleaded, worry obvious in his voice. “I don’t even want to think about what Jack would do to me if you were hurt.”

Gwyn laughed and headed for the door. “I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t be Granddad you’ll have to worry about,” he pointed out. “Grandpa is  _ much  _ scarier.”

With a wave back to the older Time Lord, Gwyn stepped through the door and into the cool-crisp air of Cardiff. Providing the TARDIS had landed correctly, it was September 27th 2037.

The Doctor had been pretty insistent that if Gwyn was going to do this, they weren’t going to land the TARDIS anywhere near the Roald Dahl Plass. There would have been no way they could keep their presence hidden from Torchwood if they landed on their very doorstep.

As a result of that decision, they had landed in the middle of a field, in quite possibly the very definition of ‘the middle of nowhere’.

Using the compass he had found, Gwyn was able to at least head in the right direction. He needed to get to the city centre, and that meant a pretty decent walk. Thankfully he had expected such a situation and was wearing appropriate shoes. 

When travelling with the Doctor, sensible shoes was a definite must. The Time Lord did an  _ insane  _ amount of running.

It didn’t take long for his surroundings to become more familiar. At first it was just the occasional building or street, but then he started to recognise more and more. It was only six years before his birth and nothing much had changed, thankfully. Although, he did pass his high school which, in 2037, was still in the construction stages.

The further he got into the city, the more he started to feel like he was back home. That was when dread started to fill his stomach. What if he wasn’t doing the right thing? Maybe the Doctor was right about him messing up the timeline with even one wrong word.

Taking a deep breath, Gwyn shook his head and pushed that thought to the side. He was here now, standing in front of the building he had been looking for. There was no point going back now; he would only regret it in the future.

Throwing a quick look over his shoulder, Gwyn pulled out his sonic screwdriver - a welcome aboard present from the Doctor - and aimed it at the door’s electronic lock. It was more technologically advanced than some of the locks Gwyn had seen, but it took less than a second for the device to beep and the door to slowly slide open.

Inside was nothing more than a generic block of flats. There was nothing special or remarkable about the building, but Gwyn knew the significance of it; this was the area of the city most new couples came before they moved into their own, more permanent houses to settle down with their families.

On the sixth floor, flat 6B was the residence Gwyn headed straight for. It was only when he was standing in front of the door that he started to doubt himself again.

“Come on, Gwyn,” he muttered. “Just do it.”

With a deep breath, he lifted his hand and lightly knocked on the wood; black and red, and slightly chipped, but still perfect in Gwyn’s eyes.

At first nothing happened and Gwyn felt his stomach fall to his feet. He was sure he hadn’t gotten the place or apartment wrong. And he definitely hadn’t gotten the year incorrect. 

Before he could leave, resigning himself to his fate of failure, there was the sound of movement in the flat and the door opened, revealing the occupant.

For a long moment, Gwyn couldn’t speak; couldn’t do anything but stare. He had dreamt about this meeting for such a long time, and now it was here, it felt surreal.

It was only the sound of the other man’s voice that snapped him out of his stupor. “Can I help you?”

Gwyn blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision which was starting to fog up suspiciously, and tried to plaster a smile onto his face. “I”m sorry to intrude like this,” he began, turning the Harkness charm up. “I’ve just moved in down the corridor - 6E - and…” He shuffled on the spot, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck, trying to play the part. “I kinda forgot my keys when I left for work this morning.”

A sympathetic look crossed the other man’s face. “I know what that’s like.”

Gwyn smiled, unable to stop the grin appearing at the sound of the other’s voice. “My partner is on her way home, but it’s going to be about an hour.” He winced, and averted his eyes. “I know this is probably really rude, and we’ve only just met, but I was wondering if I could use your bathroom?”

He didn’t know how he managed it, but he could feel his cheeks growing hot as though he were embarrassed to ask such a question.

“Oh,” the man murmured in surprise, before composing himself, “of course. Please, come in.”

To say Gwyn was surprised that he had been invited in so easily would have been an understatement. He had been trying to think of a cover story since he had stepped out of the TARDIS, and using the bathroom was the only one he could think of that had the possibility to get him inside.

He was just grateful the other man was as generous as he had been told. Gwyn would have no idea how else the meeting could have gone.

“The bathroom is just through there,” his host informed Gwyn, pointing down the corridor to the second door.

Gwyn smiled and thanked him, before heading to the aforementioned room. He had no idea what made the other man trust him so much, but before he entered the bathroom, Gwyn turned his head to the side and saw that he was alone. The other man had gone back to whatever he had been doing before Gwyn had interrupted.

Not about to miss his opportunity, Gwyn closed the bathroom door without going inside, and ducked into the room opposite. It was the master - only, as far as he could tell - bedroom of the apartment. 

Looking around the room, he had to take a deep breath to stop himself from losing his composure. He had never thought he would see a bedroom with the personal effects he could see dotted around the space.

There were some things he recognised, and knew immediately that they didn’t belong to the person who had let him into the apartment. They were the other occupant’s; apparently, there were some things time didn’t change one bit.

It was the other stuff that took Gwyn’s breath away. Bottles of aftershave Gwyn had never even  _ heard  _ of, never mind smelt, trinkets here and there that he knew would soon be lost in a house move, clothes that Gwyn knew the other occupant of the flat would  _ never  _ wear.

Mindful that he was trespassing and not wanting to get caught, Gwyn slowly pulled open the wardrobe. It was organised neatly, with each section somehow managing to make it obvious whose were whose, even though nothing was labelled.

Biting his lip, Gwyn carefully reached out and pulled one of the t-shirts from it’s hanger. It wasn’t much, just a plain white t-shirt that Gwyn was pretty sure wouldn’t be missed. Closing the wardrobe with as much care as he could, he moved back to the dresser.

There were four bottles of the aftershave he had never heard of, two unopened and still in their boxes. One of the open ones had half a bottle left, and the other was almost empty. If he were a better person, he would had probably taken the one that was almost empty. But he was there for a reason and would never get the opportunity again. 

He was taking the full, unused bottle.

Thankfully the jacket he had been provided with, had strangely large pockets which could be fastened with a zip. Looking back, Gwyn should have realised that the TARDIS had clearly known what he was planning.

Carefully folding the t-shirt up, he slipped it into one pocket and reverently placed the bottle in the other. Before leaving the room, he glanced in the mirror attached to the wardrobe. It wasn’t too obvious that he would be leaving with something he most definitely didn’t have when he arrived.

After making sure that the coast was clear, he ducked back across the corridor, heading into the bathroom.

With a smile, Gwyn flushed the toilet and washed his hands - trying to be as authentic as possible.

The other man was sitting in the living room when Gwyn returned and he immediately got to his feet when he realised he wasn’t alone again.

“Thanks again,” Gwyn said, trying to not make it obvious that he was trying to memorise every inch of the other’s face. He wanted to stay longer, didn’t want to leave now that they were finally face to face, but Gwyn couldn’t think of a suitable excuse to remain in the apartment. Not without explaining who he really was, and that was definitely not a recommendation when it came to time travel.

He waved his hand. “No worries. We’re neighbours, after all.” He smiled and Gwyn found it impossible to not mirror it with one of his own. It was a smile he knew he would never be able to forget. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name earlier,” he apologised, opening the door for Gwyn.

This had been the moment Gwyn had been fighting with himself over. He could lie and give a false name, but part of him didn’t want to. He wanted the other man to know him for who he really was - even if it was only for a brief moment.

“Gwyn,” he answered, holding his hand out to the other man. He didn’t offer his last night; that would raise far more questions than he could answer, and would most definitely mess up the timeline.

Another smile appeared on the other’s face and he placed his hand in Gwyn’s. “Rory,” he introduced himself, shaking Gwyn’s hand before releasing him. “Don’t be a stranger.”

Gwyn assured him that he definitely wouldn’t, and soon he was on his way back to the TARDIS. Leaving the apartment and the person who lived there - the man he had very few memories of - was harder than Gwyn had expected it to be. Part of him was starting to agree with the Doctor that visiting Cardiff, before he had even been born, had been a bad idea. He didn’t feel like he could leave now. Not when he knew that, in just thirteen years - at the old-for-Torchwood age of thirty-nine - the man he had just met would be attacked by an alien and killed.

Leaving behind his husband, eleven-year old daughter, and his seven-year old son, Gwyn.

The journey back to the TARDIS seemed quicker than it had before; his mind was so distracted that Gwyn didn’t even remember most of the journey.

The Doctor looked up as soon as the door opened, and a sad expression crossed his face when he saw his great-grandson. “Are you okay?” he whispered.

Gwyn nodded his head. To his surprise, he was actually being honest. He had thought meeting Rory after so long of living without him, would have been harder. But in reality, it had been wonderful. Even though they hadn’t spent longer in each other’s presence, Gwyn felt like he had the closure he’d needed all his life.

Silently he reached into his pocket and pulled the t-shirt out, along with the aftershave.

“Well, that’s different,” the Doctor murmured, getting up from his seat and moving over to Gwyn. “Did you steal those from your Papa?”

Gwyn nodded with a small shrug of his shoulder. “I’m pretty sure he won’t miss them,” he dismissed the Doctor’s concerns. He unwrapped the aftershave box and pulled out the bottle. After spraying the liquid on the shirt a few times, Gwyn put the bottle away again.

“In my defense,” Gwyn tried to reason with the Doctor. “The aftershave isn’t for me. It’s for Dad.” The Doctor drew in a breath as he realised what Gwyn was saying. “He mentioned a while back that he can’t remember what Papa smelt like, and you can tell it breaks his heart. I only grabbed the one bottle, but I was thinking that Torchwood might be able to replicate it.”

The Doctor frowned for a second, before jumping to his feet so suddenly it made Gwyn jump. “Can I see the bottle?” he requested. When Gwyn hesitated, he added, “I swear, I won’t damage it.”

Grudgingly, Gwyn turned the bottle over and watched silently as the Doctor headed over to the console. He pressed a few buttons, before a drawer slid open and he sprayed the aftershave twice, before closing it again. As he did so, the TARDIS sprung to life, analysing the scent.

“Torchwood might not be able to help,” the Doctor said, returning the bottle to Gwyn, “so it’s always good to have a back up. If anyone can replicate the scent, it’s the TARDIS.”

Gwyn grinned, tears shining in his eyes as he pocketed the bottle again. “Thank you,” he whispered.

The Doctor smiled, before shifting uncomfortably on the spot. After all these years, he still wasn’t overly fond of emotional moments. Instead, he focused on the other item Gwyn had stolen from Rory. “Who’s the t-shirt for?” he asked.

The other man smiled and lifted the shirt to his face, taking a deep breath and inhaling the scent of the aftershave he had sprayed. It was a scent he would now, forever associate with Rory. With his Papa.

“That’s for me.”   
  



End file.
